


you offered up your soul

by RecklessWriter



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Orochimaru is a very bad person in this fic, Triggering Material, Uchiha Itachi Being a Good Brother, Uchiha Itachi Lives, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-19 16:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22280779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecklessWriter/pseuds/RecklessWriter
Summary: “It wasn’t like that,” Sasuke says quietly. His face is shadowed by his hair. “I didn’t… I never said no.”Itachi’s sorrow is so deep it reaches down to his bones. He reaches forward slowly, brushing his brother’s hair gently from his face.“Did you sayyes?”WARNING: discussions of rape/sexual abuse
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 35
Kudos: 601





	you offered up your soul

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE TAGS. This story deals with a pretty heavy topic. No rape actually happens in the story, but it is talked about.
> 
> If you haven't guessed, Orochimaru is an awful person in this story. I don't actually interpret his character as being a pedophile or being attracted to Sasuke sexually, (despite the fact that many of the things he says makes it sound that way), but for this story, he is.
> 
> Also, this takes place in a Semi-AU. Everything happens the same, except that Sasuke learned the truth about the massacre before he fought Itachi, so Itachi is alive.

_you gazed into the devil’s eyes and asked what it would cost_  
_he asked you for your broken soul and you gave it to him gladly_

———

Sasuke never talks about the three years he spent with Orochimaru.

Itachi doesn’t realize this at first. Doesn’t even realize that there’s anything _to_ realize. One full year since the end of the war, and Itachi’s still processing the fact that he survived; still getting used to being back in the village, to a brother who no longer looks at him with hatred in his eyes.

All of this, and a million other things he never thought he’d have again, are plenty to keep his mind occupied. He doesn’t realize that Sasuke rarely ever speaks his former teacher's name, and even if he did, it probably wouldn’t ring any alarm bells.

He doesn’t realize until one day, when a mission sends the two of them Orochimaru’s way, and it suddenly slaps Itachi right in the face. He feels sick with himself for not noticing sooner.

_Sasuke never talks about the time he spent with Orochimaru._

Itachi doesn’t realize. Until he finally does.

( _And there’s nothing that can save Orochimaru then._ )

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” Sasuke says. “I could’ve done this part on my own.”

Itachi glances to his left, as his brother ducks under a branch in his path. Sasuke’s hair falls away from his eye as he does, briefly exposing his Rinnegan.

“I know,” Itachi responds. “But I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. Itachi recognizes the expression on his face. It’s his _I'm-not-a-child-stop-treating-me-like-one_ expression.

“He’s hardly going to just attack me, Nii-san. And it’s not like I wouldn’t be able to kill him if he tried.”

Itachi presses his lips together, because _yes_ , he is fully aware of this. He knows how powerful his younger brother has become, knows a cockroach like Orochimaru poses no threat to him. But still…

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Itachi admits. He tightens his jaw. “It’s the same way he used to look at me back in the Akatsuki.”

Sasuke tenses slightly. Itachi assumes it’s due to him mentioning his time in the Akatsuki, and immediately regrets bringing it up.

Sasuke quickly recovers from the words. “I’m not five anymore,” he tells him. “I can take care of myself, you know? You don’t have to watch out for me like this.”

 _I always have to watch out for you_ , Itachi thinks, but he keeps the thought to himself. It will only make Sasuke irritated.

Truthfully, he knows he tends to be a bit too overprotective—too _controlling_ —where his brother is concerned. He tends to think he knows best, even when he doesn’t, and that’s an aspect of his personality that he’s been trying to work on.

Sasuke isn’t a child. He’s a fully capable adult. And Itachi needs to learn how to loosen his grip.

“In fact,” Sasuke says, and there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips now, “I’d say that I’ve officially surpassed you. If anything, _I_ should be protecting _you_.”

The words are teasing and lighthearted in a way that still astounds Itachi to hear. Something so simple as a playful barb, but it causes Itachi’s heart to catch.

After all the blood and deception between them, Itachi never thought he’d hear anything but hatred in his brother’s voice. But here they are, exchanging banter so easily, so _naturally_.

“Watch yourself, otouto,” Itachi tells him. “I think you’re getting a touch too cocky.”

Sasuke stops, turning to look at him. They’re nearly the same height now. “Allow me to prove it, then.”

Itachi arches an eyebrow. “Prove it?”

“A sparring match,” he proposes. “When we get back to Konoha. You and me, no holds barred. And no going easy on me because of my arm, either.”

Itachi considers it. His eyes dart down to his brother’s empty sleeve, then back to his face, observing the challenging glint to his eyes. He finds his lips tugging into a smile.

“Okay,” he says. “You’re on.”

It’s not the relationship they had when they were children. It’s different.

It’s _better_.

They continue to make their way to Orochimaru’s base of operations. At one point, Itachi trips over a tree root and nearly falls, sending Sasuke into laughter. Itachi retaliates by attempting to trip him with his foot.

Itachi glimpses the hideout ahead of them. His carefree air falls away, replaced by a straightened spine and guarded expression. Beside him, Sasuke’s hand has fallen to the hilt of his sword, a sure sign that his demeanor has also shifted.

Tenzo— _Yamato_ , Itachi corrects himself—is waiting for them when they reach the mouth of the cave. He inclines his head in greeting.

“Itachi-san.” He pauses, his eyes flickering toward Sasuke. “Sasuke.”

There’s a note of suspicion in his voice, in his eyes, different from how he greeted Itachi. Sasuke’s face remains blank, but his fingers tighten slightly on Kusanagi.

(Itachi bites back his own spark of annoyance. His brother has been nothing but loyal to Konoha this past year. Has he not proven himself _enough_?)

“We’re here to question Orochimaru,” his brother says. “Hokage’s orders.”

Yamato steps aside, his eyes still unnecessarily sharp. Sasuke descends into the mouth of the cave without another word, and Itachi follows immediately after him.

Torches line the walls of the hallway, ornate snakes engraved on the metal. Despite the warmth the flames should be providing, Itachi finds himself growing steadily colder the farther they get down the hall.

“Let me do most of the talking,” Sasuke says. “He’ll respond best to me.”

Itachi acquiesces to this reluctantly. Orochimaru’s twisted version of fondness toward his brother makes his skin crawl, but it’s a strategic move to use that to their advantage.

(Privately, Itachi thinks allowing the snake to live is the height of foolishness. But he has no say in such matters, so he keeps his opinion to himself.)

Two of his brother’s former teammates greet them before Orochimaru does. Itachi doesn’t know them too well, but they’ve come by the apartment on a few rare occasions.

“Itachi-san,” Karin greets him—a completely different tone than the one she uses with his brother. “How have you been?”

Itachi offers her a polite smile. “I’ve been well, thank you.”

“Let me guess,” Suigetsu says. “You’re here to see Orochimaru? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I’m working a mission involving a special type of Kekkai Genkai,” Sasuke tells them. “I have reason to believe Orochimaru has intel regarding it.”

“Ha,” the boy responds, exposing his sharp incisors as he grins. “I knew that had to be it. You’re too much of a cold-hearted bastard to actually come visit us.”

“ _Suigetsu_ ,” Karin growls. Her fists shake with the threat of a punch. “Watch it, you no good—”

They remind Itachi of Sasuke’s other teammates. Itachi wonders if that’s why his brother rarely seems bothered by their bickering, when he would be with anyone else.

“Where’s Juugo?” Sasuke asks, interrupting their antics and inquiring after the absent member.

Karin shrugs. “Who knows. Off talking to birds somewhere, probably. Come on, Orochimaru is over this way…”

“Itachi-kun,” Orochimaru greets him. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

Itachi feels a flicker of annoyance at the familiar honorific. He doesn’t show it on his face.

“Better than you,” he replies evenly.

Behind him, Suigetsu snickers quietly. Orochimaru’s lips curve up, an amused edge to his sharp eyes.

“So _emotionless_. You haven’t changed.” The man turns his gaze to Sasuke. “Tell me, does your brother actually have a heart within that chest of his? Really, I’m curious.”

It’s an obvious attempt to bait him. Sasuke’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t rise to it. 

“Enough,” he says. “We didn’t come here to chat. Have you ever heard of the Raikō-Dan?”

“Ah,” Orochimaru mutters. “The Lightning Group.” His eyes spark with curiosity. “What do you want with them?”

“You know them?”

“I’ve heard of them. Though I heard they’ve been suppressed by Kirigakure.”

Itachi frowns at the snicker in the words. The snake clearly has information they don’t.

“There’s a possibility that the leader of this group is attacking shinobi villages,” Itachi tells him. “Over a hundred shinobi have gone missing.”

“Is that so?” He spares only a briefest glance at Itachi when the words are spoken, his attention returning quickly to Sasuke. “The head of the Raikō-Dan, huh…”

Orochimaru trails off. He’s looking at Sasuke with an intensity that Itachi doesn’t like. It reminds him of his early Akatsuki days, feeling the man’s hungry eyes running over his body.

Sasuke is clearly uncomfortable as well. He hides it well, but Itachi can tell by the tense set of his shoulders.

“If you know something,” Sasuke says, “then spit it out. We don’t have time for your games.”

The corners of Orochimaru’s lips curve up. His fingers walk slowly across the table, as he says in a low voice, “But I thought you liked our little games, Sasuke-kun…”

He leans forward, brushing pale fingers against Sasuke’s cheek. Protectiveness sparks in Itachi’s chest, but his brother is already slapping the hand away, glaring.

“Don’t touch me,” Sasuke snaps at him.

There’s something heavy, _dark_ , in the words. Orochimaru slowly retracts his hand, smirk still lingering on the edges of his mouth.

Oh, Itachi wants to kill him _so badly._

He hates the way the man is looking at his little brother. Identical to the way he used to look at him. There’s a hunger behind that gaze that makes his skin crawl, makes a sick feeling squirm in his gut.

He’s looking at Sasuke like he’s something to take, something to _own_. Itachi wants to take a kunai from his belt, wants to draw the blade across Orochimaru's eyes.

“That’s not an attitude to use when you want something,” Orochimaru says. “If you want information from me, it’ll come with a price. Are you willing to pay for it?”

Sasuke stiffens. His visible eye is dark and hateful. “You’re _disgusting_.”

Orochimaru chuckles. “You haven’t changed. Still so amusing to play with. Alright, I’ll tell you. But only because you asked me so nicely.”

Behind them, Suigetsu and Karin have been watching the exchange silently. Suigetsu grins, a single sharp tooth poking over his lip.

“Wow, Orochimaru-sama,” he says. “I had no idea you and Karin _both_ wanted into Sasuke’s pants—"

Karin tenses. “Suigetsu—"

In a movement too quick for ordinary eyes, Sasuke pulls a kunai from his belt and flings it at Suigetsu’s face. The boy yelps in surprise, jerking his head away as the blade embeds itself in the wall.

“Sasuke!” he yells. “You bastard! That could have actually hit me!”

“It’s not as if you would have felt it,” Sasuke points out.

“Yeah, not _physically_ ,” Suigetsu says. “But I would’ve felt it _emotionally_.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes.

Despite the sudden attack, his brother doesn’t seem actually angry. Still, there’s an edginess to him that is impossible to overlook.

“The leader of the Raikō-Dan possessed a special Kekkai Genkai that made him valuable,” Orochimaru tells them. “He was one of the former guards at Oyashiro's place.”

Itachi frowns. The name is familiar.

“Oyashiro… Isn’t he an arms dealer?”

Orochimaru flashes him a grin. “Indeed. People call him the merchant of death. Unfortunately, the man has more hideouts than I do, so I’m afraid it will be very difficult for you to find him.”

Sasuke narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t give me such unsubstantiated information like this without purpose. You know where he is.”

“You don’t trust me?”

Sasuke gives him a bland look at the question, and the snake smirks.

“I can lure him out,” he says. “But it will be difficult. Will you still continue to pursue this?”

“Why do you think I came here?”

Orochimaru watches him, and his eyes seem to spark at the words. His gaze is hungry, _wanting_ , and it makes Itachi’s jaw clench.

“I feel that wind of yours again,” Orochimaru mutters, lips curving. “It’s moving the windmill again… always in directions I never expect…”

There’s a slight movement beneath the table. Itachi’s eyes widen as his brother _reacts_ , knees banging into the table as he throws himself out of his seat and to his feet, knocking over his chair.

Itachi flinches back in surprise at the action. Sasuke's gaze is wild as he stares down at his former teacher, his Sharingan blazing a bright red. His body is shaking.

 _“I told you not to fucking touch me_ ,” he snarls.

It takes a moment for Itachi to understand what happened—the slight movement he spotted. Orochimaru must have touched Sasuke beneath the table, out of Itachi’s eyesight. 

Suigetsu looks shocked, confused, but Karin wears a different look. It’s tense, pained.

Sasuke turns abruptly, his eyes still blazing. His cloak fans out behind him like a shadow as he strides quickly from the room.

A pit in his stomach, Itachi stands quickly to follow him. But before he can, there’s a hand on his shoulder, halting him.

“Don’t,” Karin says to him. “I’ll go after him.”

Itachi feels himself stiffen, feeling instant indignation. “He’s my brother—”

“I know,” Karin says. There’s a horrible understanding in her eyes. “But you don’t understand. I do.”

The hand drops from his shoulder. Mystified, he watches her retreat after his brother.

After about fifteen minutes, Itachi goes after them. He steps outside the hideout, and Yamato points him in the right direction. Sasuke and Karin are sitting at the base of a tree, talking quietly.

Itachi walks closer to them silently, taking the time to observe them. They are crouched together extremely close, and Karin’s expression is extremely gentle. She’s saying something to him, her hand resting on his knee, but Itachi's too far away to hear her words.

Sasuke is facing away from him, so Itachi can’t see his face. But his body is clearly tense, his shoulders hunched, and Itachi feels incredibly concerned. He doesn’t know what’s going on—doesn’t know what he’s missing—but what he does know is that something is wrong with his brother, and he needs to find out what that something is so that he can fix it.

What can it possibly be that _Karin_ can understand but _he_ can’t?

Karin’s lips are moving, forming her words very clearly: _—going to be okay. You can’t let him get to you like that, you know it’s what he wants—_

It takes Itachi a moment to realize he’s reading her lips. He stops immediately. Despite temptation, he’s unwilling to disregard his brother’s privacy.

There’s a pause in the conversation. Then, very slowly, Karin leans forward, wrapping her arms around Sasuke in a careful hug. Sasuke, to Itachi’s surprise, accepts it. He doesn’t embrace her back, but he doesn’t push her away, either.

It’s astounding, actually. Sasuke doesn’t let _anyone_ hug him.

It only serves to concern him more. Because if something is affecting Sasuke to the point where he’s dropping his physical barriers and actually allowing himself to be comforted, then that means something is really, _really_ wrong.

And why _Karin_? They were teammates, sure, but they never seemed to share a particular closeness. 

Itachi frowns. His mind replays the scene inside the hideout, dissecting it and trying to puzzle it out. As he does, Karin stands up from the ground and walks over.

“You know I sensed your chakra the moment you came out here, right? And so did he.”

“Is he alright?” Itachi asks.

“I talked to him,” Karin replies—which doesn’t answer his actual question.

Itachi frowns, shaking his head. “Yes, but—is he okay? What happened in there?”

Karin pauses. She watches his face closely. Itachi tries to portray his genuine concern, but he’s so used to concealing his emotions, he’s not sure he manages it. Does she see his care for Sasuke when she looks at him? Or does he seem cold and indifferent to her?

“You should ask him about it,” she finally responds. “If he hasn’t already told you, then there’s a reason for that. It isn’t my place to say.”

She takes one last lingering look back at his brother. Then she passes him, walking back toward the entrance of the hideout.

Itachi doesn’t move toward Sasuke immediately. He stands there for a moment, his mind troubled.

“Hey,” Sasuke says to him, walking over. He looks uncomfortable, avoiding Itachi’s eyes. “Sorry about that in there. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It was nothing.”

 _It wasn't nothing_ , Itachi thinks with a frown. He may not know what’s going on, but if it bothered Sasuke enough for him to react the way he did, then he won’t let him dismiss it so easily.

“What was nothing?” he asks. “What did he do to cause you to react like that?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Sasuke says firmly. “He was just… being himself. I let him get to me when I shouldn’t have. I’m fine.”

Itachi looks at him closely. The way his jaw is clenched, the shadow that seems to linger in his eyes. He’s _not_ fine.

“Sasuke—”

“ _Itachi_ ,” Sasuke says sharply. “ _Drop_ it.”

It’s the use of his actual name that causes Itachi to pause. He recognizes the expression on his brother’s face—it’s the same look he wore during his time in the Akatsuki, whenever Kisame or one of the others would prod at a topic that got too close to the truth.

It won’t matter how much he pushes this. Sasuke isn’t going to talk, and trying to make him will only create conflict between them.

Itachi’s spent so long fighting with his brother. He doesn’t want to do it anymore.

“Okay,” he says reluctantly. “I’ll drop it. If you swear you’re really okay.”

“I’m fine. I told you, I just overreacted.”

The two of them turn in the direction they came. As they step through the entrance of the cave, Sasuke speaks up again.

“You heard what Orochimaru said about the Raikō-Dan. The only way to catch them is to lure out this Oyashiro guy.”

“Yes,” Itachi agrees, “but someone needs to stay in Konoha in case there’s another attack like yesterday—”

“I know. Which is why you’re going to stay here in the village and I’m going to go with Orochimaru.”

“What?” Itachi stops, turning to face his brother. “No way. Absolutely not.”

“He’s not going to agree if it’s you, and we both know it. It’ll be a quick trip, Yamato will come with us—”

“After what just happened in there? There’s no way I’m going to let you—”

Sasuke’s eyes flash dangerously. “ _Let me_?” he repeats.

Itachi falters, immediately realizing his misstep. Sasuke takes a step forward, his expression hard.

“You aren’t _letting me_ do anything,” he says firmly. “We’ve already had this conversation. You don’t get to control my choices anymore.”

The _you never should have in the first place_ goes unspoken, but Itachi still hears it loud and clear. Out of all of the sins Itachi has committed against him, it’s the manipulation and control that Itachi exercised over his life that Sasuke still finds the hardest to forgive.

Itachi doesn’t begrudge him his anger. He has every right to it. Trying to make his brother’s decisions for him is something Itachi still struggles with.

( _You always do this!_ Sasuke had snapped at him once, on a particularly bad night, when the ghosts in both of their heads were too loud to ignore. _Every single time! You keep trying to control everything I do, I’m fucking sick of it!_ )

Itachi takes a breath, bites down on the familiar instinct that tells him that he knows best, that Sasuke needs to listen to him.

“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I just don’t like the idea of you going off with him.”

Some of the coldness leaves Sasuke’s expression, but he still looks resolute. “I’m going,” he replies. “Deal with it. You’ve done plenty of things that I haven’t liked.

Itachi doesn’t have a defense to that. It’s undeniably true, and continuing to protest now will only expose him as a hypocrite.

“What about that sparring match?” he asks.

“We’ll still have it,” Sasuke tells him, his lips curving up. “But this way you’ll have a few days to prepare before I kick your ass.”

Itachi rolls his eyes. “You’re delusional,” he mutters, but he’s smiling.

Sasuke leaves with Orochimaru in tow, promising to be back in no more than five days. Neither of them bring up the incident again, but it refuses to leave Itachi’s mind.

He can’t stop thinking about his brother’s expression. The sharpness to his eyes, the tremble to his voice. _I told you not to fucking touch me._

He hasn’t heard Sasuke sound like that in a long time. Not since—

( _“Itachi! Mother and Father are both—“_ )

Itachi gives his report to Kakashi and returns home. The apartment is empty and quiet, and Itachi drops onto the couch, resolving himself to an evening of worrying over his brother.

He tries to distract himself with reports on the current mission. He goes through all the intel they have regarding the missing shinobi and the Raikō-Dan, trying to see the threads where they’re connected, but his mind keeps going back to Sasuke.

More specifically, back to Sasuke and Orochimaru. Back to the scene in the hideout, with Sasuke jumping up with his Sharingan blazing. What _was_ that?

Orochimaru is at the center of it, Itachi knows that. The answer is there. He can feel it on the fringes of his mind, lingering just out of his reach. If only he could figure out some of the pieces, maybe he could begin to put it together…

And so, sitting there on the couch, Itachi begins to compile in his head everything he knows about his little brother’s relationship with Orochimaru.

The list, he's distressed to find, is very short.

Sasuke doesn’t talk about the three years he spent under Orochimaru’s tutelage. Itachi has never considered this to be odd—he doesn’t like to speak about the time he spent in the Akatsuki, and he was with them for nearly a decade.

( _Nine years—nearly half his life he spent there. Playing a role, living a lie._ )

But for all his reluctance to speak of the years he spent as a member of the organization, never has he tried to pretend they didn’t exist. Never has he banished them from any and all discussions, as if his memory simply had them erased.

But _Sasuke_ … Sasuke treats those three years in Otogakure as if they are a blank period in his history. He’s never acknowledged them, not once. He doesn’t even speak Orochimaru’s _name_ , not unless he needs something from him.

Itachi never realized this until now. He never had a reason to.

This is what he knows:

He knows that Sasuke spent three years with Orochimaru. He knows Orochimaru planted a Curse Mark on him some time before the Sandaime’s death, meant to entice Sasuke to his side. He knows that Sasuke left Konoha behind, driven by his desire to grow stronger, his need to kill Itachi.

He knows Orochimaru wanted to possess Sasuke’s body, the same thing he once wanted with Itachi. He knows that Sasuke didn’t hesitate to turn his sword against the man, despite three years as his student. He knows that Sasuke holds him in disgust and contempt, and that the only reason he brought him back was because he needed his abilities.

Itachi knows all about the events _surrounding_ those three years. But nothing about what happened _during_ them.

A part of Itachi knows that he might be better leaving it alone. Sasuke told him to drop it, so it would be in his best interest to listen to him. But then he thinks of that wild look in Sasuke’s eyes, the way he looked with his Sharingan blazing, and he knows that he can’t.

Something caused his brother to look like that. Itachi can’t let it go. He _can’t_.

So, he goes to the one person who understands Sasuke even better than he does.

( _Because the Sasuke that he understands is a seven-year-old child. The one that exists now often seems to him like a stranger._ )

“Orochimaru?” Naruto says. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about that.”

Itachi frowns, ignoring the disappointment he feels at the words. “You’re sure? He never talked about it to you?”

Naruto looks down at the bowl of ramen in front of him, his eyebrows furrowed as he thinks. He shakes his head, looking back up at Itachi.

“No, not that I can remember. He doesn’t really like to talk about that stuff. He still feels guilty about everything, you know.”

Itachi thinks about his brother’s empty sleeve, about the replacement arm he refuses to accept. “I know,” he says.

“Why are you asking?” Naruto wonders. He shoves an inordinate amount of noodles into his mouth, looking at him in concern. “Sakura told me that he went off with Orochimaru yesterday. Nothing happened, did it?”

Itachi thinks of a pale hand brushing against his brother’s cheek. He thinks of wild eyes, a mouth pulled into a disgusted snarl.

“No,” he lies. “Nothing happened. Sasuke just needed Orochimaru in order to follow a lead.”

Naruto hums around the ramen in his mouth. “Well, good. I've never liked the way he looks at Sasuke… such a creep…”

Itachi tenses slightly at the words—at the confirmation that someone else sees it, too. It’s not just him being paranoid, projecting his own experiences with the man while in the Akatsuki onto his brother. There’s something _not right_ in the way Orochimaru looks at Sasuke.

“Anyway, I can’t help you with Orochimaru,” Naruto tells him. “Like I said, Sasuke doesn’t talk about the time he spent with him. Why don’t you just ask him about it? Why did you think that I would know?”

“He talks to you,” Itachi says.

“He talks to you, too.”

“Not like he used to.”

Naruto frowns. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Itachi arches one of his eyebrows slightly, as if asking _how would you know?_ Naruto doesn’t know how he and Sasuke were back then—how different things are now.

“I don’t know how things were like between you as kids,” Naruto says, “but it’s only natural things would be different now. Both of you are different people than you were then.”

Itachi frowns as he considers that. It’s true. Sasuke is a different person now than the boy he was before the massacre—and so is Itachi.

“From what I’ve seen, you’re still the one he talks to the most. Even more than me or Sakura.”

Itachi thinks about that, remembering all the times he found his brother and Naruto sitting with their heads together. The smallest of smiles that would flicker across Sasuke’s face while in Sakura’s presence.

“You think?”

“Definitely,” Naruto says. “There’s no way he’d ever be as open with me as he is with you. Whatever you want to know, just ask him about it. He probably wouldn’t be happy to know you were asking me about it, anyway.”

A small smile flickers over his face. Itachi ducks his head to hide it.

“No,” he agrees. “Probably not.”

Itachi follows Naruto’s advice. He doesn’t poke into his brother’s business, and decides to wait for him to get home in order to ask him himself.

Sasuke is gone for three days. He returns on the morning of the fourth day, and Itachi looks up from his pile of reports as he enters the room.

“Hey,” Sasuke says.

Itachi’s eyes flicker over him, taking note of all the new bruises. One on his jaw and a cut on his lip. He’s walking gingerly, as if not to jar his ribs.

“What happened?” Itachi asks.

“I’m okay,” Sasuke assures him. “Just a bit bruised. But the leader of the Raikō-Dan is in custody, and I stopped a human-trafficking ring.”

Itachi raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like quite the story. Tell me about it?”

Sasuke unsheathes his sword, makes himself some tea, and then sits down at the table and proceeds to do just that. It’s a complicated story, about a girl from a forgotten clan, alone in the world with only a single person to love.

“She asked me why I still fought for Konoha,” Sasuke says, staring down at the table, “despite everything it did to me. And for a moment, I couldn’t think of an answer.”

Itachi watches his brother with empathy, and doesn’t speak. He understands that feeling of conflict—wrestling with whether the village he’s fighting for deserves the loyalty he’s given it.

Itachi loves Konoha. He always has and always will. But—

( _But this is the village that threw his brother back into the house where their parents were killed. This is the village that promised to protect him and instead turned their backs. This is the village that watched him spiral into darkness and didn’t lift a finger to stop it._ )

—but he’s not as blindly loyal as he used to be.

“I told her I did it because I was alive. Because a friend saved me.” Sasuke looks up and meets Itachi’s eyes. “I told her it was that friend's dream I was fighting to protect—by protecting this world from the shadows. Just like my older brother.”

Itachi blinks, and he feels an absurd amount of warmth flood him at the words—at the admiration in them. After everything he’s done, Sasuke is still looking up to him.

It’s something he doesn’t deserve.

“I’m proud of you,” Itachi tells him. He’s rewarded by a light blush, not unlike when they were children. Sasuke quickly ducks his head to hide it.

“Whatever. It’s not a big deal…”

The two of them descend into a comfortable silence for a while. Itachi bends over his current report, his pen scratching against the page, as he contemplates how best to bring up the topic he wants to talk about.

“And Orochimaru? How did things go with him?”

Sasuke tenses. Itachi winces the moment the words leave his mouth, because _wow_ , that wasn’t subtle _at all._

He wonders if he’s losing his touch a bit. Maybe he’s been off active duty for too long.

“It went fine.”

“I see.”

Itachi bites the inside of his mouth, staring down at the papers in front of him. After a moment of tense silence, Sasuke sighs.

“This is about what happened a couple days ago, isn’t it?” His jaw clenches in irritation. “Itachi, I told you to drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So there is something to talk about?” Itachi asks. “It wasn’t actually nothing, like you said?”

Sasuke’s visible eye flashes dangerously. His knuckles are white against the table.

“I _told_ you,” he repeats. “ _Fucking drop it._ ”

His voice is like ice. Anyone else probably would’ve been intimidated enough to back off. But Itachi’s never been careful about pushing his brother.

“It’s clearly bothering you,” he says. “You can’t just expect me to leave it when it’s affecting you like this. Sasuke, just talk to me—”

Sasuke stands from his chair like a trapped animal. “I told you,” he snarls, “I don’t fucking want to! So for once in your life, could you actually respect what _I_ want—”

“What did he do to you?”

Sasuke freezes, a panicked look flashing across his face. “What?”

Itachi knows then that he got it right. He feels a protective surge of anger flood through him. Orochimaru did something to his brother. Something so horrible he won’t even talk about it. Itachi is going to _kill him_ —

He stands from his chair, so he and Sasuke are once again level with each other.

“What did he do?” he asks. “I swear, I’ll—”

Sasuke jerks away, his expression panicked.

“ _Nothing_!” he yells. “He didn’t do fucking anything to me, alright, just fucking leave it!”

Before Itachi can blink, Sasuke has spun around and left the room.

Itachi doesn’t follow after him.

Sasuke has a nightmare that night.

It’s not an unusual occurrence. Both of them suffer from frequent nightmares. Usually, neither tries to wake the other up, not unless they’re in danger of hurting themselves. Neither of them wants to risk a kunai to the throat.

But this nightmare is _violent_. It’s the worst that Sasuke’s had in at least six months.

Itachi finds himself pinning his brother down, kneeling on his legs and leaning on his arm and shoulder to keep him still. He knows he’s causing bruises, but with the way his brother is struggling, he can’t afford to let up.

“ _No_ ,” Sasuke mutters, continuing to fight against Itachi’s grip. “No, let go… _Let me go_ …”

Itachi frowns slightly, even as his grip tightens. Sasuke’s eyes are closed tightly, his dark hair falling into his face, but his expression is clearly terrified. It pierces Itachi’s heart.

“No no no no no, _let me go_!”

It’s not the same words Itachi normally hears him screaming. There’s no mention of their mother, their father. Sasuke isn’t crying out Itachi’s name, isn’t pleading with him, _Nii-san, please stop, don’t do this, please—_

This nightmare isn’t like most of the others. This is of something different.

“Get _off_ ,” Sasuke mutters, tears on his face. “Don’t touch me, _don’t fucking touch me_!”

Something cold drops into Itachi’s stomach. On instinct, he nearly releases his grip.

_Don’t fucking touch me._

The same thing he said to Orochimaru.

He caused this, he realizes, feeling the guilt sink into him. This nightmare is a result of his prodding, because he wouldn’t stop pushing. He kept _insisting_ , refusing to let it go, regardless of the distress it clearly caused.

Itachi swallows down the emotion— _just one more thing to feel guilty about_ —pinning his brother’s shoulders to the bed with more force. He leans closer.

“Sasuke. Sasuke, you need to wake up.”

He doesn’t know what to do. He knows better than to wake a shinobi from a nightmare, especially one with the level of trauma Sasuke has, but he can’t let Sasuke injure himself either. But Itachi pinning him only seems to distress him further. He only seems to be growing more panicked.

 _Get off_ , he had said. _Let me go. Don’t touch me._

Itachi experiences a wave of horror when he realizes that his actions are only contributing to his brother’s nightmare. Sasuke is terrified of someone who will not _get off him_ , will not _let him go_ , and Itachi is _pinning him down._ He’s making himself a part of the nightmare, taking the place of whatever monster is tormenting his brother’s mind.

Feeling sick, Itachi immediately releases Sasuke. He stands from the bed, removing his weight.

“Sasuke…” he whispers.

And Sasuke _wakes_. He sits bolt upright, Sharingan whirling, fire spitting from his lips. Itachi’s eyes widen, and he throws himself to the ground, the fireball erupting in the air above him.

It takes him a moment to realize what happened, to process the fact that his brother just spat a _fire jutsu_ at him. He stays there with his palms against the ground, his heart racing.

This is _exactly_ why you’re not supposed to wake a shinobi from a nightmare.

“Nii-san?”

The voice is shaky and uncertain. Itachi exhales slowly, pushing himself to his feet.

“Sasuke?”

Sasuke’s right eye is still red with the Sharingan. The Rinnegan is visible through the strands of his hair. His gaze is clouded, not fully aware.

Itachi recognizes the vacant look instantly. Sasuke is awake now, but he’s not fully here; he’s got one foot in the present and another still stuck in a memory.

Itachi approaches him cautiously, like he’s one of the skittish cats that used to wander near their old house. Slowly, carefully, he reaches out his hand.

Sasuke flinches away from his touch as if burned. “ _Don’t_!” he snaps, his head banging against the headboard.

Itachi retracts his hand immediately. His heart hurts. “Sasuke…”

Sasuke flinches again. He pulls his knees up to his chest. “Don’t,” he mutters. “Just… don’t.”

Itachi sits there, unsure of how to proceed. His brother looks so young like this, so _small_. Itachi is reminded terribly of _that night,_ Sasuke staring up at him from a ground littered with corpses, tears slipping down his cheeks…

( _“Please… don’t kill me…”_ )

Itachi steels himself against the memory. He curls his fingers into a fist, feeling the blood of every single Uchiha against his skin.

“Go,” Sasuke whispers. He doesn’t look at Itachi, his hair shadowing his eyes. “I’m okay now, just… just go. Please.”

Itachi wants to refuse. He wants to tell him _no, absolutely not, no way in hell_ , wants to make Sasuke look at him, talk to him, wants to pull him into a hug until he calms down, falls back asleep, like when they were kids.

But Sasuke isn’t a kid anymore. His problems can’t be soothed away by soft words and comforting lies.

And Itachi has disrespected his choices enough.

“Okay,” he says quietly, stepping away from the bed. “Just… call me if you need anything, okay?”

Sasuke doesn’t respond. Itachi slips from the room.

Itachi isn’t stupid. He’s the farthest thing from stupid—he’s a _genius_.

He’s a genius. Which means when his brother has nightmares of someone pinning him down—when he flinches away from Itachi’s touch, says things like _get off me, let go, don’t touch me_ —Itachi is smart enough to put the pieces together. He’s smart enough to know what it means.

Even if he wishes he didn’t.

He doesn’t want to think about it. _He doesn’t want to think about it_. Even _thinking_ about thinking about it makes him feel like he can’t breathe, like someone's reached inside his chest and yanked out his lungs.

He tells himself it can’t be true. He’s jumping to conclusions, letting his fear run away with him. It can’t be true, it _can’t_ be, because if it is, then that means Sasuke spent three years with Orochimaru, three years with someone who looked at him like that, three years being…

No. _No_. The implications are too horrifying to consider.

He can’t think it. He _can’t_.

He doesn’t know what happened. He _doesn’t know_. He repeats this to himself so much, he almost makes himself believe it.

But deep down, he knows. Maybe a part of him has for a while.

He doesn’t let himself consider it. He doesn’t let himself _realize_ it.

The possibility hurts too much.

The next morning, Itachi is waiting at the dining room table when Sasuke emerges from his room.

“Sit,” he tells him. “We need to talk.”

Itachi can tell that he thinks about refusing. His thought process is clear in his body language, from the tightening of his shoulders to the way his gaze darts over to the door.

“ _Please_ ,” Itachi says.

Sasuke’s jaw clenches. Reluctantly, with the manner of someone approaching a guillotine, he walks over and sits in the opposite chair.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says coldly.

“Too bad,” Itachi responds, matching his tone. “I don’t care.”

Anger flickers over his face, his teeth grinding. Before he can snap at him, Itachi continues, “Look, you nearly barbecued me last night. Surely that’s a sign that you’re not okay?”

“You shouldn’t have tried to wake me up,” Sasuke responds. “Or are you forgetting the time you nearly slashed my throat open with the kunai you had stashed under your pillow?”

Itachi resists the urge to wince at the memory. Sasuke’s just trying to derail the topic of conversation.

“You were screaming at me to get off. To not touch you.” Sasuke’s face goes pale, and Itachi leans forward. “Who were you talking to, Sasuke?”

“ _Don’t_.”

Itachi ignores him this time. He’s done letting his brother deny this, letting him hide it away. He needs to know. He’s aware that it’s going to require him to be harsh. He’s aware that it’s going to require him to be cold.

He’s aware that it’s going to make his brother very, very _angry_.

That’s okay. Let Sasuke yell at him. Hate him, even. If it means helping him, he’s prepared to accept the brunt of his brother’s rage.

( _It’s nothing new to him, after all._ )

“It was Orochimaru, wasn’t it?” he presses. “During the three years you were with him. He did something to you—”

“Why even ask?” Sasuke snaps. His body is shaking with anger—and with something else. “Why even bother to ask if you already know?”

“Because I want you to _tell me_.”

With an angry twist to his lips, Sasuke stands violently from the chair, causing it to teeter on its legs.

“That’s what you want?” he snarls. “You really want to make me say it? As if knowing you know isn’t humiliating _enough_?”

There are tears in his eyes. Itachi’s heart clenches. “Sasuke—”

“He raped me. Is that what you wanted to hear me say? _He raped me_.”

The words strike Itachi with the blunt force of an axe. He feels them like a knife straight to his heart. _No. No._

He knew. Deep down, he already knew. But that didn’t stop him hoping, _praying_ , that it was something else, that there was some other explanation—

Itachi struggles to breathe. The world floats away from him for a moment, unreal and untouchable. He feels like he did after his parents fell to the wooden floor, staring down at the bloody katana in his hands.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” Sasuke snarls, agony in his voice. Itachi struggles to drag himself back to his own body, to look at him. “Or maybe you wanted something more? A play-by-play, maybe? I can tell you exactly how it happened, if you’re looking for details—”

There’s an iron fist wrapped around Itachi’s lungs, squeezing. “Sasuke—”

“I could tell you exactly how he touched me. How he made _me_ touch _him_. Would that satisfy you to know? To know how he touched me over and over and _over_ , and I didn’t even fight back, I just fucking _let him_?”

Itachi jolts at the words. “You—what?”

“I let him,” Sasuke repeats. “I let him, because I wanted you dead, and I was willing to do anything to make it happen.”

Itachi feels sick. He stares at his brother with wide eyes, too horrified to speak.

Sasuke’s hands shake at his sides. “I did exactly what you said,” he tells him, his eyes sharp with fury. “I hated you with everything in me. With my entire soul. Aren’t you proud I did as you asked?”

Itachi doesn’t breathe. A tear slips from Sasuke’s eye, falls down his cheek.

“You practically drove me to him!”

Itachi’s heart stops at the words. Sasuke tears past him, ripping open the apartment door and slamming it behind him as he leaves.

Itachi sits there on the chair for a long time. He doesn’t move.

There’s no sound in the apartment. The sound of the slamming door seems to echo long after Sasuke has left. Itachi feels vaguely numb, and he can’t seem to feel the floorboards he knows are beneath his feet, the chair that he’s sitting on.

He feels the way he felt as he watched his parents’ blood spill across the floorboards. Like he’s existing in two worlds at once, unable to get them to merge. The world goes fuzzy and distant around the edges, and Sasuke’s voice echoes in his skull.

_He raped me._

His breath catches in his throat. His hands are shaking against the table.

_Because I wanted you dead, and I was willing to do anything to make it happen._

His hands curl into fists, his knuckles white. He digs his nails into his palms.

_Aren’t you proud?_

He thinks about Orochimaru’s pale hand brushing against Sasuke’s cheek. He thinks about that larger body pinning his thirteen-year-old brother beneath him—about hungry eyes, hands pulling at clothes, covering his mouth, _caressing_ —

He bites down hard on his lip, fighting against the urge to be sick.

_You practically drove me to him!_

Itachi bows his head and cries.

It’s hours later when Sasuke knocks on the frame of his door. Itachi looks up from his bed to find him standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can I come in?”

Itachi watches him closely, taking note of the way he lingers on the edge of the room. As if he’s unsure he’ll be welcomed.

“Of course,” Itachi tells him.

Sasuke steps inside slowly. Gingerly, he lowers himself down onto the edge of the bed.

“I'm sorry,” he says, voice heavy. “What I said earlier… about you driving me to Orochimaru… that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t your fault.”

Itachi straightens at the words. The horrible, crippling guilt washes over him again, making him nauseous. “But I—”

“You did a lot of horrible things to me,” Sasuke tells him. “And yes, your actions influenced me to seek Orochimaru out. But it was still my choice. I chose to go with him and I chose to stay.”

The nausea in his stomach doesn’t quell at the words. He finds no relief in the fact that Sasuke doesn’t blame him, no peace. There is no forgiveness for him here.

His brother was raped. _Abused_. Itachi put him in that situation, he told his father he would protect him and _instead_ —

Itachi’s hands tighten in his lap. _I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry._

“Don’t blame yourself,” Sasuke says. “It was my own fault, not yours.”

The words snap Itachi quickly out of his spiral of self-blame. “ _Your_ fault? How is any of what he did to you _your_ fault?”

Sasuke presses his lips together. “I told you. I let him do what he did—I didn’t fight—”

“That doesn’t give him the right to do whatever he wants! Sasuke, you were a _child_! He _forced_ you—”

“It wasn’t like that, it—you don’t understand.”

Itachi’s fingernails are digging deeply into his skin. He forces his fists to loosen, forces the murderous rage down in order to speak calmly.

“Then make me understand. Explain it to me.”

Sasuke looks down. The silence stretches for a long time, until he finally speaks.

“The first time it happened was three days after I got there.”

Itachi freezes. Sasuke isn’t looking at him, is instead looking somewhere slightly to the right of him. The line of his shoulders is taut, his face pale.

“He pushed me against the wall of one of the rooms. It was so dark, I could barely see a thing, but—but I could _feel_ him. His hips pinning me. His breath on my neck. His _tongue_ —”

Sasuke’s voice breaks, his breath hitching. There are ghosts in his eyes.

“I froze. It was like I couldn’t make my body move. I told him to stop—I _think_ I told him to stop—but he just—”

Coldness spreads through Itachi’s chest. He wants his brother to stop talking. He doesn’t want to hear this—but he _needs_ to hear this, needs to _know_ —

“He told me not to fight. He said—” Sasuke swallows, his voice shaky. “He said that gaining power came with a price. That he wouldn’t give it to me if I refused to pay it.”

Sasuke’s voice drips in self-loathing. “I didn’t fight,” he says quietly. “I let him do what he wanted with me. I spent three years in the darkness. He asked me for my soul, and I handed it over.”

Blood thunders in Itachi’s ears, power threatening to spill from his eyes. Horror turns to rage, fighting to escape. How _dare_ Orochimaru do this to his brother— _violate_ him—make him _feel_ like this—

Sasuke is shaking beside him, close enough for Itachi to feel his tremors, and the anger fades. He forces it down. Anger isn’t what Sasuke needs from him.

“Sasuke,” he says firmly, “that’s _rape_. It doesn’t matter if you fought him or not. He _raped_ you.”

Sasuke bows his head, his expression shadowed by his hair. His hand shakes against his thigh.

“It wasn’t like that,” he says quietly. His voice cracks over the words. “I told you, I didn’t… I never said no.”

Itachi’s sorrow is so deep it reaches down to his bones. He reaches forward slowly, brushing his brother’s hair gently from his face. He hooks it behind his ear, his fingers lingering.

“Did you say _yes_?”

Sasuke’s head lifts slightly, their gazes locking . There’s something unbelievably fragile in his eyes, like spun glass slowly splintering. Neither of them moves.

And then, Sasuke’s face _crumples_. Tears well silently in his eyes, his expression heartbreakingly raw. Every fracture line suddenly visible, Sasuke bows his head and _sobs_.

It’s a quiet sob, barely a breath, but it pierces the quiet of the room like a blade against fragile glass. It pierces Itachi’s heart with the same sharpness, punches the air from his lungs.

He wastes no time in pulling his brother to him. It doesn’t matter that he’s eighteen now, not seven, Itachi pulls him to his chest, wrapping his arms around him as he sobs.

He doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t know if there’s anything he _can_ say. So instead he says nothing. He rubs his hand down Sasuke’s back, rests his chin on the top of his head. He lets his brother cry, ignoring the tears in his own eyes.

Each noise is like a senbon to his heart. _I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—_

The sobs quiet down eventually. Sasuke doesn’t move, still leaning against Itachi.

“Please don’t hate me,” he whispers.

Itachi feel a shock go through him at the words. He pulls back. “Hate you?”

Sasuke keeps his head bowed. Itachi grips his brother’s chin in his hand firmly. He raises his head, forcing him to look him squarely in the eyes.

“ _Never_ ,” he says.

His heart aches when he thinks of how long Sasuke’s been struggling with this—carrying this inside him.

“Not for anything,” he continues, “but _certainly_ not for this.” He shakes his head. “How could you even _think_ —"

“I thought you’d think I was weak,” Sasuke admits. “Or say it was my fault. Because I didn’t fight…”

Itachi locks his jaw at the words. “Listen to me,” he says firmly. “This is _not_ your fault. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t say no to him, you were a _child_. He _manipulated_ you. Not saying no is in no way the same as giving him your consent. Understand?”

Sasuke bites his lip, still shaking. He doesn’t respond.

“You’re _not_ weak. Sasuke, you’re the strongest person I know.” Itachi’s lips quirk up, and he forces a hint of levity into his voice as he says, “And I’m including myself in that assessment, so that’s pretty damn impressive.”

A tiny huff escapes Sasuke’s lips, his mouth quirking slightly. “Arrogant,” he mutters.

Itachi smiles slightly. Sasuke swipes at his cheeks, attempting to gather his previous composure.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I cried all over you like a child.”

Itachi shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry.”

For a moment, they sit there together, neither of them making any move to speak or stand up. Then, Itachi turns more fully toward his brother, making sure he has his attention.

“You can always talk to me, you know,” he says kindly. “Whatever you say, I promise never to judge you or think less of you. And I know that I haven’t been great with keeping my promises in the past, but this one I swear that I mean…”

He leans back slightly to meet his brother’s eyes. Cupping the back of Sasuke’s head, he leans forward and guides their foreheads together.

“I promise, _I will always love you_.”

Two days later, Itachi receives a summons from the Rokudaime.

“You wanted to see me, Hokage-sama?” he asks.

Kakashi folds his hands in front of him, watching him with keen eyes that catalog his every movement.

“Orochimaru was found dead yesterday,” he says evenly. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Itachi purposely widens his eyes, portraying a genuine expression of shock.

“What?” he asks, with the appropriate amount of surprise—as if he hadn’t spent the previous night washing the man’s blood out from under his fingernails. “He’s dead?”

“Don’t play games with me,” Kakashi says. “I’m asking you if you were the one to do it.”

Itachi frowns. “Sorry, Kakashi-sama. I don’t know anything about it. Why would I have reason to kill him?”

Kakashi looks at him closely, his gaze shrewd. “Oh, I don’t know. Retribution, perhaps? For certain wrongs committed?”

 _He knows_ , Itachi realizes, looking at him closely. _He knows what that snake did to Sasuke._

Itachi grinds his teeth at the knowledge. Kakashi knew—he _knew_ , and he still let that vermin live.

“I didn’t kill him,” he lies. “Though I don’t consider his life to be any real loss.”

Kakashi hums noncommittally. “Alright, if you say so. Understand, though, that Orochimaru was a valuable resource to Konoha. As Hokage, I am obligated to punish whoever is responsible should I find them.”

 _Obligated_. That single word sticks out to Itachi. Suddenly, he understands. It is the _elders_ who decided to keep Orochimaru alive. As the Rokudaime, Kakashi is duty-bound to find the perpetrator. But he isn’t actually upset Orochimaru is dead. He’s secretly grateful—grateful that the man who abused his student so horribly is dead.

This isn’t an interrogation. It’s a warning. _I know you did it. Don’t give me the means to figure it out. Or else I will be forced to arrest you._

Kakashi can’t say he’s glad Orochimaru is dead. His precarious position prevents him from doing so. So instead, he uses his gaze to communicate what his words cannot.

 _Thank you_ , his eyes are saying.

Itachi clenches his jaw. He thinks about that pale, disgusting hand brushing his brother’s cheek. He thinks about Sasuke’s shattered expression, his body shaking in Itachi’s arms.

 _I didn’t do it for you_ , he communicates back at him. _And I didn’t do it for Konoha, either._

Kakashi inclines his head, as if he understands the unspoken words. “You’re dismissed,” he tells him.

“Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

Itachi slips quickly from the office, returning to the only person who has ever really mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably never write something with a topic this dark again. I tried very hard to handle it in a way that was respectful to people who have actually experienced it, and I hope I managed to do that.
> 
> I feel wrong asking if you enjoyed this story, since it's not exactly a topic you can enjoy reading about. But I hope you guys at least appreciated the Itachi and Sasuke moments and that I finally wrote a story where Sasuke actually gets the hug he deserves.


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